


Those Who Show Up

by nitpickyabouttrains



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Cycles 3.1, M/M, Missing Scene, beach, chatting, do these voices sound like sorkin?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 10:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitpickyabouttrains/pseuds/nitpickyabouttrains
Summary: Josh and Sam talk during the Santos campaign.





	Those Who Show Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirenamuln](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirenamuln/gifts).

> Happy Cycles!

Josh sat on a bench, overlooking the sand and water. There was a pier, off to his right, where people were running around and shouting. But where he was, a pathway behind him and the ocean in front, it was calm. 

He rested his elbows on the back of the bench, opening up his body, and closed his eyes. There was a certain peace in a place like this. The sun setting in front of him, palm trees all around. 

He saw the appeal. 

Josh also knew it was not for him. 

A moment of peace, sure. A little quiet. But he missed it when he was gone, the hustle of the campaign. Back at the office, things were going on without him. Decisions were being made. As much as he was grateful to get away for a second, he wanted to be back in the middle of the action. 

That was the life he was made for. 

At the end of the day, southern California was really too sunny for him. He needed more weather. He needed more action. 

“I’m here,” a familiar voice came from above Josh’s head. 

He grinned and opened his eyes, looking up at one of his oldest friends. “You’re here,” he echoed, unable to keep the joy out of his voice. 

Josh stood up and pulled Sam into a deep hug. 

“Hey, man,” Sam said, and Josh could feel the other man smiling against his neck. 

Sam hugged him back fiercely, with his whole body. It was not one of those passing hugs, one armed and quick. Both men put all of themselves into it. Their chests pressed together, their heads bent into each other. 

After a long moment, they separated, sitting back down on the bench together. They sat close enough that their legs were still touching, their arms nearly on top of each other. 

“I missed you,” Josh admitted, because he did. 

“I missed you, too,” Sam agreed, knocking his shoulder against Josh’s. “You should have called.”

“I did call,” Josh rolled his eyes. “Everytime I am in California for an event, I call. That’s how we are here, together.”

They both knew that wasn’t what Sam meant. 

“ _ Why _ haven’t you called?” Sam asked. 

It was a fair question. But also one Josh was not keen to answer. Why had he not brought his best friend onto the campaign? Why had he not done the same thing he had back when he first heard Bartlet? 

“Sam,” his friend’s name came out almost like a sigh, “come on.”

“Is Santos the real thing?” Sam asked bluntly. 

“You’re the real thing,” Josh shot back, before he could sensor himself. 

Every political operative had that one dream candidate in mind. That one person they knew could be it. For Josh, it was Sam. If he could get Sam elected, if he could be the person to help Sam accomplish his agenda in office, that would be it. Sam was the real thing. The  _ most  _ real. 

Sam snorted. “Maybe, but I am not running for office. And you aren’t running my campaign. You are running Santos’s. So, tell me. Is he the real thing?”

“What do you think? You’ve seen him.” Josh pointed out. 

It wasn’t like it used to be, eight years before. Times had changed. Between the internet and the 24 hour news networks. You didn’t need to go to New Hampshire to hear a candidate speak anymore. 

Josh might not have called Sam and brought him into the campaign, but that did not mean Sam was ignorant. 

“I think we had the real thing once, and it was amazing,” Sam said carefully. “You aren’t an idiot. There is no way you would have left the White House, left Bartlet. Not unless you found it again.”

Idealistic, that’s what Sam was. That’s what Josh was too, on a good day, he liked to think. But it wasn’t always a good day. There had to be a future even when things were not perfect. 

“You give me too much credit,” Josh frowned. 

“Nah,” Sam shrugged. “You just still have a terrible poker face.”

“Maybe,” Josh allowed, because he had never been able to lie to his best friend. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not an idiot.”

Sam chuckled. “Okay, fair. I may have jumped the gun on that one. You can be stupid. But not about this, not again. You wouldn’t go back to another Hoynes.”

“He could be great,” Josh said, because there was no reason to lie. They knew too much about each other, he and Sam. Sam could read him like a book. And Josh had given up so much for Santos, to be there helping him run. “Santos, he has the potential.”

Sam nodded, like this was what he had been expecting. Maybe this was the answer he had expected from Josh. 

“So then why,” Sam asked again. 

Because that was the crux of the issue. Not if Santos was the real thing, but if Josh had found the real thing, why had he not gathered the troops? Why had he not called on the best, on the people he trusted? Why had he not brought in Sam?

“Because you would have come,” Josh said. 

“Damn right I would have,” Sam agreed without pausing for thought. “That’s not a reason not to call. That’s the reason you  _ do  _ call.”

“You would have come, and I could not do that to you again,” Josh knew he sounded frustrated, but could not help it. 

Sam seemed to sense something in his voice, because he stood up from their seat. He held out his hand, an offering. “Come on,” he said, “Let’s walk.”

Josh placed his hand in Sam’s and let Sam pull him up. He stretched for a moment, hands over his head. It pulled up the grey t-shirt he was wearing, just a little, he realized, when he felt Sam’s warm hand on his stomach. 

Looking down, Josh saw Sam’s fingers tracing over the scars on his front, pushing up the shirt a little more, revealing all the places the bullets were. 

“I forget, sometimes,” Sam said, his voice low and surprised. 

“I don’t,” Josh could not help the smirk from forming on the corner of his mouth. 

“You don’t still feel it, do you?” Sam’s brows drew together, his hands were still there, on Josh’s chest, moving and worrying. 

Sam had seen the scars before, had been there when Josh was recovering. But that was so long ago. Josh saw what his chest looked like every day in the mirror. He lived with it, always. But to Sam, it was not a constant in his life. Certainly not anymore, since the two men were barely ever in the same place anymore. 

Josh reached up and placed his hands on top of Sam’s, stilling them. “Nah, nothing like that. It’s just always there, with me, in the back of my mind. Plus, it aches before it’s going to rain.”

“Hah,” Sam let out a gruff laugh, and let his hands drop. 

Josh fixed his shirt, tugging on the hem, and the two of them started to walk on the path, side by side. They fell into step like they still did this every day, walking together. They didn’t have to talk about pace, about where they were going. 

They were naturally in-step. 

“I wonder, looking back, how we kept going. After, I mean,” Sam thought out loud. “How we jumped back into work and didn’t stop, in the face of it all.”

“We kept going because we had to,” Josh said. “We did it because someone had to do the work, and if it wasn’t us, it was going to be someone else. And we didn’t want it to be someone else. We had worked too hard for our chance.”

“You are still doing the work,” Sam pointed out. 

Josh sighed. “I’m trying.”

“You still don’t want it to be anyone else,” Sam pressed. 

“No, I guess I don’t,” Josh allowed. “I guess I still think I have something to give, a difference to make. Maybe that makes me proud, but-”

“No,” Sam cut him off. “You should still be making the difference. I want you to be the guy behind the guy, helping to make the calls.”

Josh smiled at his friend, “Thanks, man.”

“And I want to be there with you, again,” Sam said. He spoke with real force, conviction clear in his voice. He could tell that Sam believed what he was saying. Of course he did. But that didn’t make it real. 

“Do you?” Josh asked carefully. 

“Of course I do,” Sam scoffed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You are back in a firm, building a life,” Josh pointed out. “I pulled you out of a life like this once before.”

“And I am glad you did,” Sam said. 

Josh was less sure. “But you ended up back here. And if I asked, you would leave it all and join me. I don’t want to be the one who destroys what you want.”

Sam considered what Josh was saying. “What makes you think this is what I want?”

“Because you left,” Josh said. 

He had not meant for the words to come out so bluntly, so harsh. He had not meant to say them at all. But now they were out, hanging in the air between the two friends. 

Josh took a deep breath, preparing to apologize. He so rarely got to be in the same place as Sam these days. He was not here to start a fight. They only had a little while before Josh went back to work and Sam disappeared back into his life. There was no reason to have a tense moment like this. 

Sam spoke before Josh had a chance. He didn’t sound boisterous, or loud, or sure, like he usually did. “I did what I thought I had to do, at the time. I thought I had an obligation, I thought I was helping.”

“Sam-” Josh tried to interrupt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Just let me explain, okay?” Sam asked. 

“Okay.” Josh agreed. 

“After I left the White House, I couldn’t just come back,” Sam said. “I had walked away and tried something else, and I failed. I didn’t know how to come back from that. So I started something new. But I missed what we did. Every day.”

“You could have said something,” Josh frowned at his best friend. He could not believe he had missed it, this huge thing. 

“I couldn’t have,” Sam disagreed. “It was too late. But then you left too, and I thought-”

“You thought I would call,” Josh nodded, understanding. 

“I thought I would get another chance to make a difference with you,” Sam said. “I kept waiting. I am still waiting.”

There was that idealism again. Sam wanted to make a difference. He wanted to make the world a better place. Josh wanted to make the choices, to make sure the world was a little less fucked up. But Sam was a good man. He believed. 

For Sam it wasn’t about getting someone elected, it was about changing the world. 

Josh pressed his lips together, thinking. Finally, he realized there was really only one thing he could say. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Sam did not sound like he believed him. 

Clearly Josh had given in too easily. Sam had been prepared for a much longer argument. He had been settling in to make his points. 

But Josh did not want to fight. He didn’t need to be convinced, not really. None of his objections were about if Sam could do the work. Of course he could. No one wrote like Sam. No one thought like Sam. 

“Okay, yes, of course I want you on my team. Always. If you want to come back to DC, I want you there with me,” Josh said. “Just, give it a little more time.”

“Time,” Sam repeated, making the word sound like a curse, like Josh had suggested something awful. “But I have already missed so much. You already have the nomination. The general election is already in full swing.”

“Yeah, but this part,” Josh gave his best friend a hopeful smile. “This part I am good at. Let me take it home, get the win. Stay here and keep sharp. Someone is going to need to be well rested and full of energy when we get to Washington.”

He was good at this. It was true. He had faith in himself. But so much of these things was down to luck. To the weather and other countries and how the public acted. He wanted Sam on his team, but not if it was only going to be for a few months. 

He wanted it to last. 

Sam considered what Josh was saying. He looked him over, eyes scanning the other man’s face. Josh tried to keep from pulling a look, but could not help it, a smirk on his lips. He was right. Sam had to see that he was right. 

“Okay,” Sam agreed after a moment. “I can wait.”

“Good,” Josh said, satisfied. 

“But not because of the reasons you gave,” Sam kept talking, like Josh had not said anything. “Because I know you are going to win and waiting until you have to staff the White House to join instead of now doesn’t make any sense.”

“Then why?” Josh asked. 

“Because,” Sam said, “I think I can do you some good here in California leading up to the election.”

“And?” Josh pressed, knowing his friend. 

Sam turned to Josh, stopping their walk. He was grinning, his face bright like the sun. Sam radiated warmth in a way Josh could never understand. And right then, he was focusing it all on Josh. 

It felt amazing. 

Beside them was the beach, hot sand and cool water. The sun was high up in the sky. A perfect California day. Josh barely noticed. All he cared about was himself and the man standing next to him. 

“And you asked,” Sam said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You are here and you asked.”

For the two of them, it really was that easy. 

  
  
  



End file.
